Having reached home, he kissed the boy passionately, sent for food to
Madam Marx, and wept and laughed hysterically for an hour. After a time
the boy slept, and Gregorio then paced up and down the room, smoking,
and puffing great clouds of smoke from his mouth, trying to calm
himself. But he could not throw off his excitement. He imagined the
awful home-coming had he not been to the bazaar, and he wondered what he
would have done then. A great joy possessed him to see his son safe,
and a fierce desire filled him to know who had taken the child away.
He longed for Xantippe's return that he might tell her. He forgot
completely that he had dreaded seeing her earlier this evening. Then he
began to wonder what Amos was doing at the fantasia, and why he was so
interested in the boy. Perhaps, Amos would forgive the debt for love of
the child. The idea pleased him, but he soon came to understand that
it was untenable. Oftener, indeed, he shuddered as he recalled the old
man's figure bent over the infant. A sense of danger to come overwhelmed
him. In some way he felt that the old man and the child were to be
brought together to work his, Gregorio's, ruin.
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